Where Echoes Meet
by Claddagh girl
Summary: Buffy, Willow and Giles are sent back in time to the court of King Uther of Camelot. Inspired by the 'King Giles' icon floating around on LJ
1. Prologue

**Title**: Where Echoes Meet (Prologue) WIP  
**Fandom**: Merlin – Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover.  
**Summary**: Buffy, Willow and Giles are sent back in time to the court of King Uther of Camelot. **Please note**: This chapter consists of mainly original characters of my own creation, with the exception of Buffy, Willow and Giles, obviously. The next chapter lands in Camelot so please be patient.  
**Pairings**: Merlin/Arthur (Eventually.)  
**Rating**: G for small use of blood and violence against a woman.  
**Warnings**: If you are offended by same sex relationships then please jog on.  
**Chapter word count**: 3213 words.  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Merlin. They gatecrashed my brain and wouldn't let me rest until I wrote this down so if you want to blame anybody, blame them. No money is being made from this.  
**Beta**: shu0chan. *\o/* Thank you dear. I have to say thank you to therg for making the "King Giles" icon that was the entire inspiration for this story in the first place.

~ o O o ~

Rachel's nanna had always said that she was a naturally intuitive young woman and she should trust her instincts. Rachel had taken this advice to heart as soon as she was old enough to understand what words like intuition and instinct really meant, and neither had ever steered her wrong.

When the two newest members of her father, Morris', medieval re-enactment troop had pulled up in a battered old Volvo and one of them asked to audition for the part of King Arthur, Rachel had felt an undeniable pull in her gut that told her the two were up to something.

Her father wasn't getting any younger and he couldn't swing a sword around his head any more without his tired old arms failing him or denting his armour; his days of performing were over and he needed someone athletic and skilled enough to follow in his footsteps.

He had placed an ad in the local paper and Rachel helped him post flyers in every amateur dramatics society and performing arts school within a forty mile radius in the hope of finding the next King of Camelot. They spent the following four months meeting with hopefuls, all of whom were either too young, too old, too pompous and vain, or just plain incompetent with a sword. Much to Morris' dismay.

The man in the Volvo, Simon, as he turned out to be called, was in his early thirties and apparently desperate for the job. He had no real acting ability to speak of but by this point Morris was desperate and was willing to give the guy a chance. So when Simon picked up a sword and threw it around in the air with surprising grace; hacking and slashing at invisible foes like he had been born into it, Morris clapped him on the back with a big smile on his face and gave him the job on the spot.

No matter how much Rachel whispered into her father's ear, pleading with him to be patient and continue the search just a little longer, he would not be swayed in his decision. Simon was crowned King in the Nags Head pub that very afternoon and given the prestigious honour of becoming guardian to Morris' favourite sword, Excalibur.

The fact that his friend, Ryan, was sober and could apparently grow a decent beard was enough incentive for Morris to throw a set of sweaty purple robes at him and give him the part of Merlin. The previous owner of the costume, a useless lay-about named Toby, had passed out, drunk, and fallen in the giant prop cauldron a few too many times and everyone was glad to see the back of him.

The troop welcomed the newcomers with open arms, accepting them quickly and with a great deal of friendly banter that was returned in kind. The men learned the ropes soon enough and it wasn't long before some of the younger girls among them began competing for Simon's attention while they watched him glistening with perspiration as he sparred with the other knights in the meeting hall. For his part, Ryan kept to himself in a quiet corner; learning his lines or pouring over one of the various archaic books he always seemed to have in hand.

Everyone adored the two men but Rachel, unable to shake the feeling of mild anxiety that always settled over her while in their presence, couldn't bring herself to get close to them. She watched from the sidelines, cataloguing their every move and seemed to be the only one who was immune to their charms.

It was the little nuances that went unnoticed by the others that disturbed her the most. Like the way Ryan seemed painfully shy; his eyes never settling on whoever he was talking to at the time, or the way he clung to his books like his life depended on it. She didn't like the way he seemed to be fixated with a photo of a much younger 'girlfriend' that he used as a page marker; taking it out to gaze at it when he thought no one was paying attention. He had never brought the mystery red-head along to any of the meetings and he was always quick to change the subject when anyone caught a glimpse of the picture and were curious enough to ask questions. Although he smiled in all the right places and joined in the camaraderie around him, the guy was downright creepy and Rachel didn't know how much longer she could stand to be around him.

Morris mocked her relentlessly for her paranoia and jokingly warned her that she should make more of an effort to be friendly with the pair, lest Ryan pick out a hex from one of his 'funny' books and use it against her. Rachel rolled her eyes in exasperation and laughed it off, telling her dad to stop reading Harry Potter; it was obviously giving him daft ideas.

A few more uneventful months passed by and Rachel eventually resigned herself to the fact that the two men were here to stay and that Ryan's obsession with weird literature was just his way of throwing himself into the part he played. She learned to keep her unpopular opinions to herself, although she remained suspicious and never stopped watching them from the corner of her eye, waiting for one of them to slip up.

~ o O o ~

Rachel exited the main staging arena having just played the role of a serving girl who was arrested for gossiping in the town square. The punishment for such a crime had been to have her earlobe nailed to a tall post, so she made sure to clutch the small tissue covered in fake blood to the side of her head as she made a dash for the refreshments tent; wailing loudly in imagined agony until the flaps of the entrance closed tightly behind her. The cries of panic and disgust that sprang from the children, and the subsequent laughter of their parents, brought with them a huge sense of satisfaction, just as they always did.

It was the end of May and the troop had been employed by English Heritage to perform their signature piece, The Life and Times of King Arthur of Camelot; a day-long exploration of customs, weaponry, and warfare, with a few slapstick comedy sketches thrown in to keep the women and younger children entertained. It was always a big crowd pleaser and never failed to draw hundreds of bored locals and eager foreign tourists, alike, to whichever location they pitched up the tents.

Thankfully there were no clouds that day, it was uncharacteristically hot and everyone was slowly roasting alive inside the many layers of their costumes, the only shade available being that under the sprawling forest to the north edge of the field where their make-shift camp had been erected early that morning.

Once she had quenched her own thirst, Rachel decided to make her rounds with a fresh jug of water and a few cups and left the tent via the back door just as Sir Gethen was coaxing a young Californian woman into the arena to take part in the sword fighting demonstration. As she slowly ambled past them, the knight proudly twirled his sword and told the woman not to be shy about attacking him, he was a strong lad who had grown up on the side of a Welsh mountain and he was sure he could take anything that a little darling like her could throw at him. She couldn't have been taller than five foot three and looked like a child in comparison to his burly six foot four frame. To his great surprise, and that of everyone watching them, the woman proved more than a match for him and put quite a few dents in his pride as well as his armour, receiving a huge round of applause from her small band of friends and the growing crowd around them.

Gethen was stubborn at the best of times so after establishing that the woman currently kicking his backside wasn't going to break if he pushed back a little, he did just that, and tried to land a few blows of his own. She easily side-stepped his every move with a smile on her face while batting her eyelids at him innocently and the spectators roared with laughter, thinking it part of the act.

Rachel knew that, for as long as he lived, this was a day that Gethen would deny had ever happened, so naturally she dropped the jug of water and took it upon herself to round up as many witnesses as was possible. Soon enough the entire troop had abandoned whatever they had been doing and congregated at the edge of the arena to see Gethen gasping for breath on the ground and begging for mercy that the woman wasn't in any rush to deliver.

Rachel looked around at her colleague's jubilant faces, laughing along with them and thoroughly enjoying the moment until she noticed there was one person who was conspicuously absent. Ryan was nowhere to be seen and once again the spark of suspicion flickered to life inside her gut. Her eyes found Simon, in full armour, striding quickly into the main arena to congratulate the young woman on her impressive swordsmanship. Her friends came over, too, just as Gethen finally heaved himself off the ground and soon the five of them were engrossed in excited conversation. Simon seemed keen to know more about the American's and their English friend but his eyes kept darting to the edge of the forest every few seconds in what seemed like an attack of bad nerves.

Bolstered by her own suspicion and before she had consciously made the decision to actually do anything, Rachel moved towards the forest intent on finding Ryan. The large crowd around the main arena had dispersed somewhat, making it easy to blend in and disappear between the trees completely unnoticed.

She stomped over the uneven ground aimlessly for what felt like hours but was really only a few moments and with no sign of Ryan anywhere she began to feel just a little bit foolish. What exactly she had expected to find, she wasn't certain and she started to think that her father was right; she really was as paranoid as he said she was. Perhaps there was nothing sinister going on in the forest at all and that Ryan was only skiving off to look through the books in the gift shop.

She sat down heavily on a fallen log to catch her breath and that was when she heard his voice, murmuring in low and frantic tones. She caught a flash of Ryan's purple robe moving between the trees to her left; heading her way, and again without thinking, she jumped off the log and hid behind a nearby Oak to watch without being seen.

He stumbled over his own two feet and cursed under his breath, panicky and covered in sweat, as he searched his surroundings, looking for something. "Okay this is it. This is the right place. It has to be."

He took out a small bottle from the hidden pocket in the front of his robes and held it tightly in his hand, closing his eyes and praying in a desperate whisper; "Please let this work, please let this work."

Rachel nervously hugged the tree a little tighter and watched Ryan struggle to open the small bottle and tip out the contents onto the palm of his left hand. It was a thick, dark liquid that smelled like old blood and something else she couldn't name. It was so foul that both she and Ryan simultaneously covered their noses in disgust. He walked a few feet away from her hiding place and smeared the liquid over the bark of a tree, rubbing it in until there was no trace left on his hand. He dropped the bottle to the forest floor and reached into his pocket again, this time taking out an old rusty knife, and used it to cut into the palm of his right hand. Blood poured from what was obviously a deep wound and Rachel's stomach rolled. She was terrified and almost cried out; wanting to know what the freak was doing, but one look at his face made the protest die in her throat. The expression marring his features was unlike any she had ever seen on him before, she had no idea that the shy man was capable of looking so fierce and intent. He was shaking as he approached another tree opposite the one with the dark liquid, and spread his blood across its face, wincing as the rough bark bit into the cut.

He stood back again, breathing heavily, and raised his arms as if to encompass the stained trees, and began to chant in a language she didn't recognize.

" Álíese hwa wæs _þýdæges_ ond hwa sy _nú_, becym; þon brðclicu luflíce inbryrdan ond gertymman hwa _nidgafol_ béo."

Nothing happened and for a fraction of a second Rachel thought she might reveal herself and start yelling but then Ryan clenched his fists and bowed his head before repeating the chant again, putting all of his energy and concentration into pronouncing the words with as much force as he could muster.

The last syllable had barely left his lips when there was an ear-splitting crack and the air between the two trees shifted and blurred, like heat waves rising from a fire, before it settled back into nothing again. Ryan collapsed to his knees, exhausted, shaking even harder than before and thanking the Gods for whatever it was he had just done.

Rachel was bewildered by what she had just seen and although she was still scared and knew the nut-case in front of her still had the knife, she found herself stumbling into view and launching herself in Ryan's direction. Adrenaline and months of pent up frustration at being made to feel like a fool fuelled her fists as she pummelled his head and shoulders over and over, screaming incoherently with tears streaming down her face. She managed to land quite a few strong blows on him before Ryan regained some of his composure and he pushed her away angrily. She landed in an undignified sprawl in the dirt while he stood there staring down at her in complete shock.

"You?" He shook his head violently and pointed at her with his bloody hand. "All this time, I didn't know. It was _you_ and I didn't know."

"What the hell are you talking about, you freak?!" She yelled back, wiping the wetness from her face. "I'm not the one hiding in the woods making weirdo blood sacrifices to the sodding trees!"

He laughed at her and the malevolence was back in full force, sending a chill down her spine. "No. And neither am I, you silly woman."

"I'm going to tell my dad and he'll have you locked up in the mental hospital faster than you can say..." Her sentence was cut off by renewed screaming when he suddenly grabbed her and pinned her arms behind her back, his full body weight holding her down and pushing her face into the fallen leaves. She began to cry in real fear, not knowing what would happen next and cursing her own stupidity.

"Geræpan!" He growled in her ear and stood up abruptly, leaving her struggling and wracked with sobs.

She tried to move her arms from behind her back but found she couldn't, something invisible was holding her hands and feet together and the best she could manage was to roll onto her back to scream into his horrible face. When she turned, however, he had disappeared completely, along with the small bottle and the knife, leaving her confused and disorientated.

"Wha...?" Before she could make sense of the situation, there were new voices heading towards her; panicked female voices and the sound of people running as fast as their feet could carry them. She writhed and screamed as loud as she could, trying to catch their attention and felt a tidal wave of relief surge through her body when the young Californian woman and her friends came hurtling through the trees towards her; one of them being a slim red-head who she immediately recognized as the young woman from Ryan's photograph...

For the first time in her life, Rachel experienced one of those moments that she thought only existed in films; where the whole world suddenly made sense and intentions became crystal clear, and there wasn't enough time to do anything about it, even if you had an eternity to prepare for what was about to come.

Time itself slowed down, seconds passed like long minutes where she was forced to watch the three friends racing closer and closer; arms pumping, hair fanning out behind them and the slow sinking of their boots into mud, and completely helpless to stop them from running headlong into the trap between the trees. Because she knew now, that's exactly what it was.

She tried to warn them, tried to scream _NO! STOP!_ But her throat closed up tight and she could do nothing but watch in horror as the two American girls and the English man were swallowed by the spell and vanished into thin air right in front of her eyes.

At the exact same moment that they disappeared, Ryan reappeared by her side and they both looked on as Simon came skidding through the trees with a maniacal smile on his face. "What happened? Did it work?!"

Ryan went to him, a matching grin stretching his face. "It did. At least I'm pretty sure it did." He sank a little, then, exhausted. Simon caught him and turned the embrace into a fierce hug and patted him on the back.

"What do we do now?" He asked, as he pulled away from Ryan's grasp.

"Now we wait." He laughed. "Impatient sod."

"What about her?" They both turned to Rachel; Ryan seemingly haven forgotten she was there.

"Don't worry about Rachel. She won't remember a thing." He said, and raised his hand in front of him, fingers curled in an awkward shape. "Aswebban ond ofergitan." He whispered, and a bright bolt of lightening surged from his fingers and hit her in the middle of the forehead, knocking her out cold.

She woke up at the edge of the forest some time later with a horrible concussion, a soreness that ran bone deep, and no knowledge of what she had done to get either.

Simon and Ryan left the troop the next day and were never seen or heard from again.

~ o O o ~

This was the tale of how, on an otherwise unremarkable day in the south of England, an aspiring young actress called Rachel West unwittingly let her guard down, and was painfully reminded that Nanna had been right about her granddaughter's instincts all along. And how, forever unbeknown to her, she had just played the most significant role of her life; a very small part in a much bigger story.


	2. Chapter 1

**Title**: Where Echoes Meet: Chapter one. (Merlin's POV.)  
**Fandom**: Merlin – Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover.  
**Summary:** Buffy, Willow and Giles are sent back in time to the court of King Uther of Camelot. (In my version of their world, Arthur and Merlin are history, not legend.) The tiny manifestation of the Great Dragon makes an appearance in this chapter, so it would help if you have read my other ficlet "Freedom", which is set after this story, but it is not entirely neccessary.  
**Pairings**: Merlin/Arthur (Eventually.)  
**Rating**: PG for this chapter.  
**Warnings**: If you offended by same sex relationships then please jog on.  
**Word count**: 3501 words.  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Merlin. They gatecrashed my brain and wouldn't let me rest until I wrote this down so if you want to blame anybody, blame them. No money is being made from this.  
**Beta**: shu0chan. *\o/* Thank you dear. I also have to say thank you to therg for making the "King Giles" icon that was the entire inspiration for this story in the first place.  
Crossposted.

Please make sure you have read the prologue before reading this chapter.

~ o O o ~

In a land of myth; where monsters and a myriad of other scary beasts were actually very real (and often very hungry), and a time of magic; that was inconveniently outlawed, by the way, (and wasn't _that_ a pain in the arse? Not to mention _terrifying_, especially if you happened to be a clumsy young warlock), there lived a young man who answered to the name of Merlin. Or sometimes, Idiot, depending entirely on who was doing the naming.

He had lived a fairly remarkable life, having grown up with the abilities he had. His childhood in Ealdor had been interesting and entertaining to say the least and Merlin was never short of ideas when it came to using his magic to play pranks on the unsuspecting victims of his mischievous nature. His mother, Hunith, had despaired of him and worried that the magic would lead him astray, so she sent him away from the safety and warmth of their home to live with the court physician in Camelot, who she hoped would use a firm hand with her wayward son and teach him how to better use his gift. Merlin loved his mother dearly and would never question her wisdom, but sometimes he had to wonder at the lunacy of sending him to practice magic in a kingdom that feared sorcery so intensely and was all too quick to execute anyone found to be using it.

Landing the job of manservant to the Crowned Prince of Camelot in the first week of living in the Castle with Gaius, though? No, that had never been part of the plan. The Prince who's father, King Uther, had made the very laws forever banning magic from his realm.

When he thought about his life _that _way, Merlin came to the conclusion that not only was it remarkable but it made him seem pretty damn brave, too, really. Especially if you considered the fact that he had secretly used his abilities to save the life of Prince Arthur and the citizens of Camelot on a regular basis without getting caught. So far, at least. Well, maybe not so brave, then? Perhaps a little bit brave and also a little bit foolish. After all he had more than a few close calls in the 'getting caught' department and each and every time he had been spared, he had vowed to himself, and to his mentor Gaius, that he would be much more careful in future.

You would think, then, as he himself thought right now, that he wouldn't have been stupid enough to land himself in his current predicament. And yet...

~ o O o ~

The ground was soft beneath Merlin's feet as he raced through the forest, desperately searching for the elusive flash of iridescent skin and the fluttering of tiny leathery wings. His heart pounded inside his chest, keeping in perfect time with his frantic lungs, and the blood rushing through his ears was so loud it was almost painful. He suddenly lost his footing and slid down an unseen bank, his arms flailing wildly and his legs tangling themselves together before he fell, hard, to the ground where dirt and debris rushed up inside his shirt and bit into his skin.

Cursing loudly, he picked himself up and the filth clung to him in damp clumps that made him want to scratch his skin, if only he had the luxury of giving it a second thought. He spun around with his eyes partially closed against the brightness of the sun as his scraped hands burned where they hung by his sides.

Merlin had only taken his eyes off it for a second and now he couldn't find it anywhere. It had been a bad idea, he knew it the moment the words had left his mouth and his eyes flashed with the heat of magic, but he just couldn't stop himself, could he? _Arthur was right, I'm an idiot. A spectacularly magnificent idiot!_ But the worst part was that he knew that he may not be alone in this forest, and if someone else should find it first... _This is the last time I let him out, if I ever find him again, that is... Absolutely the last time._

Conjuring a miniature version of the Great Dragon, granting it this small freedom from its prison in the bowls of the earth beneath Camelot, had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Until magic returned to the realm it was the only freedom Merlin could grant it and he thought the dragon understood that. Not to mention the fact it promised Merlin, it _swore, _that it wouldn't flee! Merlin couldn't stop the ragged, bitter laugh that escaped him, then. _I should have known. The scaly, duplicitous, bastard is probably laughing himself silly right now, perched high on a branch somewhere above me, mocking me. When I find him I'll wring his tiny lizard neck, I swear! As soon as I get my breath back, anyway._

His head dropped and he leaned forward to rest his hands on his aching knees, sucking in fast, deep gulps of air. _It's no good; I'll never find him out here_. He resigned himself instead to finding his horse and setting off on the return journey to the castle to face the music.

He scrambled slowly back up the bank with heavy limbs and a sinking heart, wondering how long it would be before Uther sent someone to check on the dragon only to discover it wasn't there; if it would occur to the King that it was Prince Arthur's (clearly demented) manservant that stupidly set it free. And not for the first time, either.

_Oh God, I'm a dead man_. Uther would probably hire a shaman from the exotics to bring him back to life just so that he could have the pleasure of killing him all over again. He wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of that thought but there was a nagging feeling hidden in the back of his mind that wasn't so quick to doubt the King's capacity for torture.

And what about Arthur? Would his loyalty to him, his friendship, be enough to protect Merlin from Uther's wrath? Or would Arthur be forced to turn away from him in hatred for the truth of what he really was? _Will he watch from the balcony as the executioner throws the blade high into the air and swiftly brings about my ending?_ Or would he rather hide in his rooms, away from the piercing ring of metal striking stone and the screaming silence of the crowd standing witness? _Would he mourn my passing at all or would he hate even the mere memory of me?_

"You know, Merlin. For one so young, you do have an admirable flair for the melodramatic."

The sound of the high pitched squeaking voice that so irritated the dragon while in this form was enough to make Merlin almost choke on his own tongue in anger. The mind reading thing the dragon did was so infuriating sometimes. "You!" He whipped around and found it hovering lazily in the air behind his head. _Had he been there the entire time?_ "You treacherous bastard! You promised you wouldn't leave!"

The dragon threw his head back and delicate flames shot from his mouth as he laughed at Merlin, just as he had predicted. _I'm going to kill him_.

"Come now, Merlin, calm yourself. Let me have my fun."

"Fun? I'll give you fun!" His limbs were clumsy, still tired from the long sprint through the forest, and when he lashed out to grab the dragon's tiny body in a dirty hand, it merely had to launch itself a few feet higher in the air to avoid his grasp.

Merlin's lungs protested with exertion and he found himself doubled over clutching his knees once more, dizzy from the internal war between his now receding fear and raging anger at the dragon's antics.

"Come along, boy. Your nag is this way." The dragon laughed at him again and before Merlin could argue it was fluttering away in a seemingly random direction which Merlin was forced to follow, dragging his feet and cursing under his breath the entire way.

His pace was slow and the dragon was more than willing to let him dally; eager to make the most of its limited freedom by darting in and out of the tree branches and shooting flames at any passing birds that got in its way. It had obviously realized it had truly angered Merlin and that he would return it to its prison the moment they reached the clearing where the horse waited. Speaking of his mount, it was a shaggy old man of a horse that had even less of a sense of direction than Merlin did and he sincerely hoped he had remembered to tie the reigns to a tree, lest it wander off and never be seen again. The Stable Master would kill him.

They had been moving for a while and he was beginning to wonder if the dragon was taking him on a wild goose chase, in an attempt to have more free time, when the distant sound of a woman's screams rent the air around him, making the hair on the back of his neck vibrate. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes bulging, and tried to discern which direction the noise was coming from. There it was again, louder this time and accompanied by violent sobs. The dragon growled once and shot passed Merlin, racing ahead to an unknown point. Merlin was running again before he knew it, chasing the soft trail of smoke the dragon had left behind for him to follow.

It led him to a more open area of the forest where the trees were further apart and the ground was scorched and cracked. In his haste, he almost crashed straight through a bush and into the clearing but he was stopped by the sight of two young women also skidding to a halt on the opposite side. "Get down, Merlin!" The dragon nipped his ear in warning and Merlin dropped to the floor before they could see him. He crouched uncomfortably among the sharp branches of the bush, afraid to move and reveal himself, although he had no idea why.

He could hear the women moving around the clearing, frantically searching for someone and yelling to each other in panic.

"Where did she go?!"

"Okay, what the hell just happened?"

"She was right there... I don't understand..." A muffled male voice joined the conversation, then, and whoever he was sounded quite out of breath. "I'm going to go back the way we came... See if we got turned around."

"We were running in a perfectly straight line! How can we have gotten turned around?!"

"I don't know. I can't explain it either!" He wheezed rapidly. "Just stay here, don't wander off... I'll be back in a minute."

Merlin chanced a look through a gap in the bush just in time to see the back of a middle aged man disappear into the trees from where they had entered. The two women stayed behind as they had been instructed to do so and Merlin took a moment to watch them explore the surroundings some more, his view hampered slightly by the thick bush he was nestled in.

The blonde one was soon pacing back and forth impatiently, while her red haired companion stood in the middle of the clearing looking utterly confused."The trees are too young."

"The trees are _what_ now?" The blonde quickly spun on her heels to face her.

"Too young. Something is wrong, I'm not sure... I felt a shift when we ran through here, something...I thought it was just a breeze, or maybe a spider's web caught in my hair... But now I'm not so sure."

"Willow, what are you talking about?"

" I'm saying, I don't think we're in Kansas any more, Toto." The red head looked crestfallen but the blonde merely stood there, her mouth twisted in what seemed like familiar annoyance.

"Well this is just great. Here we go again on yet another magical mystery tour of Weirdsville."

"I don't know... I can't feel anything wrong, exactly. It's just different. Young."

"Young?"

"I know it's kinda kooky, but that's the only word I can think of to describe it."

"Whatever _it_ is." The blonde sighed.

It was at this point, naturally, that the dragon shot out of their hiding place in the bush and flew towards the girls, much to Merlin's dismay. It spun around them in fast circles, and though Merlin wasn't any kind of expert on dragon behaviour, he would swear it was celebrating.

"Hey Spyro." The girl with the flame red hair cooed and waved at the dragon, while turning towards her friend. "Look at him, he's so cute!"

_Oh no! _Merlin clumsily stumbled out of the bush to warn the woman as she lifted her hand to touch the dragon, but he wasn't quick enough and he winced in sympathy when it snapped it's tiny, but incredibly sharp, teeth against her finger.

"He bit me!" She squealed and snatched her hand back, pressing it against her lips and sucking off the small drop of blood blooming at the tip. The dragon looked on, unrepentant.

"Um hello. Sorry. About that." He said, in lieu of a proper introduction, and pointed to her injured finger. "He hates being called cute."

She flashed him a sarcastic look that screamed _Thanks for the warning! _But then she smiled and it was clear that he had already been forgiven.

"Is he yours?" She asked, taking in his appearance. Evidently the woman wasn't fazed by the sight of a dragon at all. Even if it was a tiny one, it was still a dragon all the same and Merlin was intrigued by her apparent lack of a reaction.

"What? _Him_?" He laughed nervously. "No! He doesn't _belong_ to anyone. He's actually a bit of a nuisance, really." The dragon barked and flames shot out of its mouth, narrowly missing Merlin's head.

"I see what you mean." She smiled.

It was only when her blonde friend came closer to examine the small wound on the red-head's finger and asked something about having gotten shot, that Merlin noticed the two girl's state of dress.

They were both wearing what were clearly trousers but the likes of which he had never seen before. Not to mention the shirt the blonde was wearing. And the use of the term 'shirt' could be used only loosely at best. It looked more like an undergarment of some kind, which had a complete absence of sleeves and a plunging billowy neckline that swayed hypnotically across her breasts when she moved. Not even Lady Morgana would dare to wear something so scandalous.

He wondered if perhaps she was lady of _courtesy_? A whore? But no, the tailoring of her clothes, as flimsy and revealing as they were, was far superior to anything he had ever encountered within the walls of Camelot, or beyond, and the fine jewellery hanging from her lobes was positively mesmerizing. Only someone of significance could afford such things. The pendant hanging from the silver chain layered tightly around her slender neck must have been worth more than three horses alone. _I wonder if they are real diamonds?_

"Excuse me? Hi." The blonde's strange accent startled him, yanking him out of his reverie to the embarrassing realisation that not only was he standing so close to her that it could be considered indecent but that he also appeared to be staring at her chest. _Oh dear._ Once again he found himself almost choking on his tongue and turning a vibrant shade of red.

Her cheeks pulled back into a tight mockery of a smile but thankfully she chose to ignore his blunder and held out her right hand in front of him. "I'm Buffy."

Right. _Buffy_. Not a whore, then.

Anger quickly flushed her cheeks with a shade that matched that of his rapidly escalating embarrassment when he realized that, O_h dear God_, He had said that out loud! _Well done Merlin! _Pointedly averting his eyes from her bosom, he quickly lowered himself into a submissive bow as gracefully as he could and gently pressed his lips to the back of her hand.

"I'm really very sorry, my lady. Please accept my humble apology. I didn't mean to insult your honour or infer that you were, in any way, disrespectable."

She was well within her rights to slap him about the head at any second, and he would gladly accept the punishment, but today must have been his lucky day after all because as he raised his eyes, albeit cautiously, he was greeted first with a look of mild confusion and then dawning warmth. Her widening smile seemed genuine this time and he found himself mimicking her quite happily with one of his own.

"Apology accepted." She took back her hand and he was free to stand upright once more. "Shall we start from the beginning again?"

"I'd love to. Thank you." He breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"I'm Buffy, _definitely not a whore_, Summers." She laughed at his renewed embarrassment. "This is Willow."

"Hi." Her friend smiled warmly again before becoming distracted. She turned to the nearest tree a few yards away and placed the palms of her hands against its trunk, seemingly deep in thought. _Okay, that's more than just a little bit weird_ He tried not to let it occupy his thoughts too much, lest he put his foot in my mouth yet again.

"You didn't happen to see anyone around here who looked like maybe they were in trouble? Of the help-me-help-me-I'm-going-to-die variety?" The blonde asked him, completely ignoring her friend's odd behaviour.

"Um, sorry. No. I heard screaming, too, but when I got here there was nothing."

"An entire forest of it, apparently." She said, nodding in agreement.

"Oh! Where are my manners? I'm Merlin. By the way. In case you wondered." He said in his best attempt to be suave, and shook her hand again.

That caught the red-head's attention and she walked towards him, quickly, her concentration now focused entirely on him. Merlin couldn't help but shiver at the thrill of power that coursed through him when he recognized the feeling of being in the presence of another magical person. But, given his recent history with the multitude of murderous sorcerers intent on destroying the royal family at all costs, he didn't know just how afraid he should be of the seemingly gentle woman.

"You're not Merlin, he was older, and you... You feel different." She breathed reverently and scanned his face.

"No. I know I'm definitely Merlin. Have been all my life." Yes, the nerves were starting to settle in quite firmly. Especially when she placed her hands on either side of his head and looked into his eyes with an intensity that scared him. "Oh, okay, you're touching me. Um, right." He tried to pull her hands away but she couldn't be moved. "If you wouldn't mind, I'll just ..."

"There's magic in you." She said, smiling, now.

"What? Me? No! There isn't." He squeaked, making himself sound like a girl. He had to make a conscious effort to lower his tone when he spoke again. "I don't know what you're talking about." Real panic flared brightly in him and he fought the desperate urge to run; it would only prove him to be a liar, as if his babbling hadn't already convinced her of the fact. But then her face lit up with a recognition that wouldn't be denied its reward.

"Oh my gosh, you're MERLIN? As in _the_ Merlin?"

"As in _the_ only Merlin in Camelot, yes. I suppose." He trilled, floundering, now, and wondering how the hell he was going to get away with this.

"Well, I've been back a lot further than we actually ran and I can't find anything." The man's voice interrupted them and distracted Willow from her unnerving examination of Merlin's face. She dropped her hands and ran to him, practically bouncing up and down in her excitement. Merlin whipped around quickly, recognizing the voice but desperately not wanting to believe his own ears.

"Look who we found! This is Merlin. As in the real Merlin. As in; the _greatest sorcerer_ _who ever lived, _Merlin!" She squealed with delight and pulled the man forward to meet him.

"What?!" The man's brow furrowed, producing deep ridges along his forehead, as he glared in his direction.

Merlin swallowed. His fear level spiked and he honestly thought he might have a heart attack and die on the spot. But what would it matter? He was a dead man, now, anyway, because standing less than three feet away from him was King Uther himself.


	3. Chapter 2

**Title**: Where Echoes Meet: Chapter one. (Willow's POV.)  
**Fandom**: Merlin – Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover.  
**Summary**: Buffy, Willow and Giles are sent back in time to the court of King Uther of Camelot. In my version of their world, Arthur and Merlin are history, not legend.  
**Pairings**: Merlin/Arthur (Eventually.)  
**Rating**: PG for this chapter.  
**Warnings**: If you offended by same sex relationships then please jog on.  
**Chapter word count**: 2819 words.  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Merlin. They gatecrashed my brain and wouldn't let me rest until I wrote this down so if you want to blame anybody, blame them. No money is being made from this.  
**Beta**: shu0chan. *\o/* Thank you dear. I also have to say thank you to therg for making the "King Giles" icon that was the entire inspiration for this story in the first place.

Merlin's face had completely drained of colour and he looked as though he might fall to the floor at any second. "My lord, it isn't true. I swear!" He did collapse, then, heavily on to his knees with his eyes wide and un-shed tears of genuine fear twinkling at the corners. "I swear on my mother's," He broke off suddenly as his eyes closed and covered his face with both hands. Willow looked worriedly between Buffy and Giles, and it was clear that neither of her two friends understood the young man's extreme reaction either. "I'm sorry." He whispered, brokenly.

"Hey, it's okay." Willow quickly knelt beside Merlin and pulled his hands away from his face to run a finger over his eyebrow. The first time she had touched him just a few moments ago she had felt the feint thrum of the raw power of his magic pulsing through him; it felt erratic, and untamed but, as before, she was drawn to it's familiar warmth. She remembered a time when she was just as wild and unpredictable and it flooded her with a need to protect Merlin. To let him know they were the same, that he had nothing to be afraid of.

Giles tentatively stepped towards them, then, his hands held up in a submissive gesture when Merlin flinched and swayed backwards dangerously. "It's alright, I'm sure you have nothing to be sorry for." He said in his most soothing voice. "And you have nothing to fear either, I promise."

Merlin snorted in what seemed like disbelief and scrunched his brow in growing confusion. He sniffled sharply and wiped his nose on the end of his sleeve as Willow let go and sat back on her heals. Merlin took a moment to scrutinize Giles' appearance and they all stayed silent, waiting patiently for him to realize he really was in no danger. He was truly terrified and Willow could only wonder why. His initial reaction to herself and Buffy hadn't seemed out of the ordinary and it was only when Giles appeared that Merlin had panicked and crumpled to the ground. What was it about the older man that frightened him so much? She didn't know much about English history; only that Merlin was a legendary and powerful warlock, a far cry from the young man trembling in front of her, now.

She watched as his eyes darted across Giles' face, cataloging every inch of him for a long minute before he sniffed again and stood slowly, pulling Willow up with him. He looked at each of them in turn and eventually his shoulders relaxed and his breathing evened out as he obviously made up his mind about something. "You're not him, are you? You're not King Uther." He asked, still sounding shaky and nervous.

Giles smiled, gently, recognizing that apparently he had been mistaken him for someone else, and held out his hand cautiously for Merlin to take. "No, I'm afraid not. My name is Rupert Giles. It's a pleasure to meet you, Merlin." He said, fascination painted all over his face.

Merlin looked dazed for a few seconds before gathering himself together and shaking Giles' hand in a much surer grip. "You too." He nodded and a hopeful smile played at the corners of his mouth.

"Forgive my obvious ignorance but what do you mean 'the _real_ Merlin?'" Giles asked, utterly perplexed. "How is that even possible?"

Willow was about to explain her theory but Buffy beat her to the punch. "I left my Timey Wimey Detector at home but, if I'm right, Willow seems to think that we're the lucky winners of a surprise vacation in Camelot. And judging by the amount of bad vibes in the air; I'd hazard a guess and say it was a one way ticket." She said, flicking the hair from her eyes, her hands landing on her hips. Giles sighed patiently and turned back to Willow looking for a more scientific explanation.

"It's true. I think we got suckered into a trap back there. Look at the ground, it's all scorched and cracked. Somebody ripped a hole in time and we ran right through it. Whoever it was, was pretty powerful, too. I'm still tingling."

"We've traveled back in time?" He asked, incredulously but willing to believe her all the same. Willow nodded the affirmative and Giles shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his faded jeans, fighting a smile that was slowly appearing on his face. "Cool." _Of course_. Giles was a big nerd for history, he must think he had died and gone to heaven. And to wind up in Camelot of all places...

"_Not _cool!" Buffy shook her head emphatically at him and threw her hands up in the air. "Guys, come on! Am I the only one wondering why the hell we're here? We don't know exactly when we are, or where we are... More importantly, how do we get back? Are we stuck here forever?" They all sobered at that and Giles' face fell as the implications of what had happened began to sink in. Buffy began pacing again, not really expecting an answer from her Watcher.

Willow's mind was filled with images of her girlfriend Kennedy, of Buffy's sister Dawn, their best friend Xander and everything else they had left behind. Ahead. Somewhere that wasn't here and now. It made her brain hurt and her heart ache inside her chest. Her first thought was to fire up the internet and research time travel reversal spells, if there was such a thing, but out here in the middle of the woods, hundreds of years away from anything remotely computerized, that wasn't an option. She started to panic and clutched at Merlin's arm, looking to him for reassurance this time.

He caught her before she could fall and lowered her to the ground and looked towards Giles before he spoke. "I have a book that might be useful. A book of magic." Hope fluttered wildly in Willow's chest; books were good, books were familiar. She could work with that. It would be just like the old days when they spent hours and hours in the school library pouring over ancient tomes looking for answers. The panic lessened slightly and she let go of Merlin. "I'm not sure there's anything about time travel in it but maybe my friend Gaius can help. He might have more ideas about where to look."

"It's a start, I guess." Buffy stopped pacing and ran a hand over the back of her neck, trying to look as hopeful as Merlin was. "Can you take us to him?" He nodded as he helped Willow to stand again and everyone smiled in thanks.

"Bloody hell, is that a _dragon_?" Giles suddenly blurted, taking his glasses out of his pocket and placing them precariously on the end of his nose to peer at the tiny beast hovering in the air behind Merlin. Merlin laughed and swatted at the hair on the back of his head as he turned to lead them out of the clearing.

"Uh, yeah. But whatever you do don't call him _cute_." He called over his shoulder and winked at Willow. The dragon squawked and was just about to unleash another blast of flame when Merlin's eyes flashed bright gold and he snapped his fingers. The dragon disappeared.

The long walk back to Merlin's horse, and then further on to the castle, was filled with chatter and awkward questions from Merlin that Willow wasn't entirely sure they could or should answer. Where did they come from? What exactly had happened? Who was the woman screaming in the woods? Why were they so complacent about magic? How did they know who _he_ was? What did Willow mean when she had called him the most powerful sorcerer of all time?

That one question, in particular, kept coming up and they did their best to divert his attention from the fact that they wouldn't answer him with anything other than vagueness. The three friends hadn't had an opportunity to confer and agree that allowing Merlin little to no information about his own future was a good idea, but if the looks that passed between Giles, Buffy and herself were any indication, they were all thinking along the same lines.

As curious as he was to know all about his new acquaintances, and despite his mild frustration at not being able to do so, Merlin was more than keen to share everything about his life and what awaited them over the next hill in Camelot. Willow's nerves bristled when he explained that magic was outlawed in the kingdom and she should be careful not to use it unless she wanted to meet the sharp end of the executioner's axe. He had kept his own magical abilities a secret in fear of just that.

He told them story after story of all the sorcerers he had encountered since arriving in Camelot and the horrible fates that had befallen each and every one of them, whether those fates had been deserved or not. Willow grew more and more tense as they progressed and silently grieved for the terrible loss of so many lives. How had Merlin survived for so long living right under the nose of a tyrant like King Uther? At least his reaction to Giles, who was apparently the spitting image of the monarch, made a lot more sense. She was certainly in no hurry to meet the man herself.

Merlin's tales of Prince Arthur, though, were far more carefree and it was obvious that Merlin held a great affection for the royal. It was strange to Willow to think of Arthur as a prince and not as the world famous and mighty King that everyone would eventually know him to be. She was reminded of the fake King Arthur they had met earlier that day and wondered if there would be any similarities between the two. She blushed at the memory of explaining to the man that she had always thought Merlin's magic was a metaphor for the fact that he was actually hiding a huge 'sexy gay man crush' on Arthur. Giles, who had just taken a rather large drink from a can of coke at the time, had sputtered and almost choked to death. She guilelessly went on to elaborate that she wasn't the only one thinking it and Buffy had nodded in agreement; apparently there were millions of 'fan girls and boys' around the world who were die hard supporters of the theory. They wrote their own stories about the pair and a lot of it was surprisingly porny. Fake Arthur's auburn eyebrows rose high on his forehead in disbelief but he kept his opinions to himself and said nothing. Giles had continued to choke and mutter to himself under his breath, incredulously. It had been at that point that Buffy's extra sensitive slayer hearing had heard the woman screaming in the woods and they had ran hell for leather through the trees, landing them in their current predicament.

* * *

It was nearing the end of the day and the sun hung low in the sky as the castle walls finally appeared in front of them. Merlin was walking backwards with his tired old horse following faithfully and was once again smiling in wonder at Giles' face.

"Its so strange, you look_ just _like him! Its quite scary, really. The thought of two kings running around... That's just... Oof, I don't even know what that is." He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, and his face fell almost comically into a grimace as a realization hit him. The horse walked blindly into Merlin's chest and huffed in annoyance at having collided with him. Willow would have laughed but in a flash the grimace turned into worry and Merlin shook his head from side to side. "Oh no. Wait a minute, no. Two kings running around, this is bad. This is a really bad, bad, really _horrible_ idea." He said urgently pointing his finger at Giles. "We have to hide you, quickly, before anyone sees you! Come on, come with me. This way." He grabbed the horse's reins and shot off towards the town surrounding the castle with surprising speed. The horse had other ideas, however, and was reluctant to follow Merlin any more after a long day of struggling through the woods. It promptly jerked the reins from Merlin's hand, turned itself around and ambled back towards the draw bridge, alone, leaving Willow and the others completely nonplussed. Merlin skidded to a stand still and took a second to scowl at the horse's retreating backside before grabbing Giles and pulling him away with him in his previous direction. "We have to hurry before the guards make their rounds again."

A few minutes later they arrived at a small cottage just inside the town and Merlin pummeled hastily on the heavy wooden door. A young black woman with beautiful long curly hair answered, looking a little perturbed at being interrupted so late in the day, but her whole face lit up on seeing Merlin and she pulled the door back for him to enter. Merlin unceremoniously shoved Giles over the threshold into the room, leaving Buffy and Willow to close it behind them, and turned his pleading puppy dog eyes on his shocked friend.

"Gwen, I need your help."

* * *

Brother Torphin bid farewell to his peers at the end of the tunnel, wishing them a safe journey and promising to catch up with them again soon. He watched anxiously through the grate as the men left the castle via the secret entrance and stole into the cover of night undetected. Eventually they disappeared from view and, as instructed, Torphin swiftly made his way towards King Uther's bed chamber.

He made no noise as he moved up the stairs and through the halls; his feet were bare as his boots lay abandoned in the modest room he had shared with his newly departed companions. He had no real need for stealth tactics; he was unnaturally quick and nimble for a man of his size and weight and he knew the castle like the back of his hand. The security surrounding the King, although fairly tight, would pose no threat to him either but Torphin wasn't willing to take any chances; he couldn't afford the complications that an encounter with any of the night guard might bring.

He had resided within the walls of the castle for long enough that the men on duty usually paid him no mind when he came across them, but he wasn't sure if even a trusted man of the cloth such as he could get away with creeping about outside the royal chambers at this late hour.

He had never been entrusted with such an important task before and he was determined not to let his brothers down; the future of the Order depended on the completion of his mission tonight, and he was keen to rejoin his peers to deliver the news of his success. Excitement charged his blood, making him feel more alive than on any other occasion in his memory.

His eagerness to reach the King made him lax in his observations, however, and he almost ran headlong into one of the guards as he rounded the final corner that would lead him to Uther's door. He sputtered uselessly, affecting the nervous disposition he had faked since his first day in service to the monarch, and the guard gently shoved him back a step to jeer in his face. "Careful there Torphin, you wouldn't want to go injuring yourself on my very sharp spear, now, would you?" He mocked him openly; Torphin laughed and meekly bowed his head in agreement. Inside, though, his anger surged, inspiring a violent hunger in him that he had felt before and never grew tired of.

He could so easily snap the neck of the over confident bastard standing smugly in front of him but time was running out and his yearning for the kill would be better saved for a more deserving victim. He barely managed to curb his instincts and remained silent.

"Where are you going in such a hurry, anyway? It's time you were in your bed."

"I, I have a mess, I have a message for his majesty, the King." He stuttered, and pulled nervously on the cross-less rosary hanging from the rope belt around his waist.

"Alright then, but be quick about it. The King needs his rest, too."

Torphin bowed low and the guard clapped him hard on the shoulder with a gloved hand. "Go on then, be off with you." He shook his head and continued his rounds, not bothering to watch Torphin straighten his quivering spine and march confidently towards the double doors of the Uther's private chamber.


	4. Chapter 3

**Title**: Where Echoes Meet: Chapter three (Merlin's pov.)  
**Fandom**: Merlin – Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover.  
**Summary**: Buffy, Willow and Giles are sent back in time to the court of King Uther of Camelot. (In my version of their world, Arthur and Merlin are history, not legend.)  
**Pairings**: Merlin/Arthur (Eventually.)  
**Rating**: PG for this chapter.  
**Warnings**: For the sake of the story, somebody has to die at some point. It isn't either of the boys or the Scoobies.  
**Chapter word count:** 4454 words.  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Merlin. They gate crashed my brain and wouldn't let me rest until I wrote this down so if you want to blame anybody, blame them. No money is being made from this.  
**Thank yous to**: shu0chan . *\o/* Thank you for all your help, dear. And also to risa7 for being my cheerleader I really appreciate your input. I also have to say thank you to therg for making the "King Giles" icon that was the entire inspiration for this story in the first place.  
Cross posted.

Author's note:

I'm so sorry this has taken forever to post! As I have said in reply to all the lovely reviews I have had, my life has been incredibly busy and stressful this year and even though I wanted to update this as soon as I possibly could, it just wasn't do-able. As a wife and mother I have priorities that have to take precedence over this story and there is nothing I can do to change that. All I can say is THANK YOU for sticking around for my update and I really hope it is worth the wait. I can also promise you that this _will_ be finished, I don't intend it to be one of those fics that sits here and rots away and you never get to see how it all ends. I have the plot worked out, I have ideas, I have answers to a lot of questions. And as soon as I have the time, I will give them all to you.

***

Merlin had stayed with the others in Gwen's small house on the outskirts of the city until the early hours of the morning to make sure they didn't accidentally let slip about the whole 'magic' thing to his friend. He eventually left with a whispered promise in Willow's ear that he could come up with some kind of plan to help them get home, and a heavy feeling of dread sitting low in his belly that told him he didn't have a hope in hell of achieving such a thing.

When he arrived back at the castle he was greeted by the sight of Gaius sitting on his bed with his arms crossed over his chest and that damned 'eyebrow of shame' hefted high upon his forehead waiting for an explanation as to what _the bloody hell_ Merlin had been doing until this hour.

He had quickly resigned himself to the lecture that would no doubt be forthcoming from his mentor and sat beside him to relay the tale, taking what little comfort he could from the knowledge that Gaius was the one person he could share this with in its entirety.

As Merlin had animatedly babbled on about his new acquaintances and his worries over what would happen next, Gaius's expression had gradually softened to one of understanding and affection, for which Merlin was grateful. He only put an end to their, admittedly, one sided conversation after another hour had passed and Gaius's wrinkled eyes began to droop and he began leaning heavily against Merlin's side.

Twenty four hours ago he had firmly believed that his life could not possibly be any more complicated than it already was but then the three strangers had appeared out of thin air and he was immediately confronted with a whole new set of meanings for the word _complicated_.

Merlin found it impossible to sleep and spent what remained of the night shifting restlessly from one side of his narrow bed to the other until the first weak columns of morning light began to creep through the high window and across the disarray of blankets covering his restless legs.

Laying awake had given him plenty of time to think and the thing that worried Merlin the most about the entire situation wasn't that he could be about to land himself (and poor, sweet, innocent Gwen) in a positively mountainous heap of trouble by concealing fellow magic users right under the King's nose, but the fact that Buffy, Giles, and Willow claimed to be from the future.

Another village, another kingdom, even another country; he would have had no problem with. He wouldn't even have given it a second thought. But the very idea of being from another _time_ was madness and should have made his head hurt just thinking about it. And yet, the completely baffling thing was that he had just _accepted_ it, without question.

Instead of laughing in their faces at the absurdity of it all, as he knew he should have done, he had barely reacted in any way and he believed them, he really did. How could he not? There was just something so different about them, something more foreign than he had ever encountered before. They didn't belong here and he could almost feel the crackle of disturbed energy that surrounded them all. That same energy called to him; made him want to reach out and touch it and the sheer magnitude of that power was the thing that worried him and kept him from sleeping. He knew he himself was a force to be reckoned with; he had felt his own potential while standing before Nimueh on the Island of the Blessed, but this was different. It felt old and so much stronger than any magic he could ever hope to harness.

He thought about his beloved magic book hidden beneath the dusty floorboards under his bed, the one he had promised to show Willow, and felt a stab in his gut at the realization of just how inadequate the power of its contents seemed compared to that which had brought her and her friends to Camelot. For so long the crumbling collection of ancient pages had seemed like the epitome of everything that magic and the Old Religion had to offer; something sacred that he could always rely on. But now it seemed like nothing more than a child's book, useless and ineffectual. A bit like how Merlin himself felt faced with the fact that his whole world had just expanded way beyond the grasp of his imagination.  
Life, magic, the universe, time itself; all so much bigger and complex than he had ever known.

Who was he to stand up to _that_?

* * *

Merlin stood beside the small fireplace in Gwen's house and chewed his thumb nail with worry. He knew that Gaius had almost a dozen errands to run throughout the day and couldn't spare any time to help them conduct research that might prove useful. He couldn't exactly take his problem to Geoffrey without going into detail, either, and so it was up to Merlin alone to come up with the promised plan to help Willow, Buffy and Giles return to their own time. So far, though, his mind had remained infuriatingly blank and he felt increasingly useless standing in front of them all now.

The magic book felt heavy inside the bag as he clung to it, scared to reveal it while Gwen was looking. Her eyes kept flicking in his direction every few seconds as her expert fingers went to work on the fastenings of Morgana's dress that Willow was now wearing, apparently borrowed with permission from the King's ward earlier that morning.

It was obvious Gwen knew that Merlin hadn't told her the whole story about her impromptu house guests but he knew he could count on her to cover for him and to not ask too many probing questions. She smiled in embarrassment when he caught her staring and quickly turned her back on him to smooth out the delicate lace at Willow's shoulder. He wondered, idly, if she would be so relaxed around the woman standing in front of her if she knew her true nature. Could she not feel the thrum of power in the air the way that Merlin could?

Before Merlin had the chance to ponder over the bizarreness of the entire situation any further, there was a frantic knocking on the door accompanied by the Prince's booming voice calling his name causing his heart to flutter wildly in his chest.

"Arthur!" Merlin gasped in warning and made shooing motions at Giles with his hands. "Quickly!"

Panicked looks shot across the faces of everyone in the room as the three newcomers fidgeted inside their new clothes and scrambled to hide anywhere they could. The girls disappeared behind the heavy curtain separating Gwen's modest grain store from the rest of the room but Giles was left out in the open, muttering "_Oh, bugger!" _and floundering, miserably, inside the billowing fabric of a robe that had once belonged to Gwen's father, Tom.Just as Gwen reached the door, struggling to look innocent, Buffy ran from behind the curtain and unceremoniously shoved Giles out of the back door of the house before quickly rejoining Willow.

Seconds later Arthur stood on the threshold of Gwen's home, completely unaware of the frenzy his presence had caused. "My apologies, Guinevere, I didn't mean to appear rude." He said, and flashed what Merlin thought was one of his most disarming smiles.

Gwen blushed brightly and Merlin thought he heard a muffled exclamation of "_Guinevere? Oh!_" come from behind the curtain at the princes' words but didn't chance a look behind him.

Arthur bowed his head at Gwen before staring over her shoulder directly at Merlin. "I'm looking for my good for nothing manservant. You haven't seen him, have you?" He asked, dryly, not tearing his eyes away from Merlin, who barely managed to keep hold of the word _prat_ that desperately wanted to escape his lips. Gwen smiled fondly at him over her shoulder, almost as if he had said it aloud after all, and took Arthur's slur on Merlin's character for the affectionate term he himself wasn't entirely convinced it was meant to be. She opened the door wider for the prince to enter, and found Gaius only a few paces behind him. The physician gave them both a look that quite clearly said "_I tried my best to keep him away. Sorry_." and Merlin shrugged minutely in acknowledgment before turning his attention back to Arthur.

"I see you managed to get dressed all by yourself this morning, Sire. Well done."

"Yes, but with no thanks to you, Merlin." Arthur answered in his usual curt fashion.

Merlin smirked as Arthur approached him but the pinched look around the prince's eyes made him think twice about any more jibes. "What is it, what's wrong?" he asked, quickly clutching his bag more tightly in his hands.

"My father was attacked last night." Arthur explained, and his shoulders visibly tensed. "One of the servants found him unconscious and bleeding in his room when he took in his breakfast this morning. He's severely weakened and has lost a lot of blood but Gaius thinks he will recover, given time."

Gaius nodded an affirmation, his face growing even more sombre than before. "I'm afraid I can't say the same for the guard who was on duty."

"What do you mean?" Gwen asked, quietly, tucking a strand of curly hair behind her right ear.

"His body was found in my father's chambers. His neck was snapped." Gwen covered her mouth in horror and Merlin laid what he hoped would be a comforting hand on her arm. "That reminds me, Gaius," Arthur said, softening his tone. "The family have to be informed. Please assure them that I'll do everything in my power to bring his murderer to justice."

"Consider it done, sire."

"You know who did it, then? Who attacked the King and killed the guard?" Merlin asked.

"Richard. The guard's name was Richard. And I can't be certain, of course, but our friends from the Order of Aurelius have also mysteriously disappeared during the night."

This time Merlin was almost sure he heard mumbling from behind the curtain but, thankfully, Arthur was too distracted to notice.

"My father said he didn't get a good look at his attacker but he felt sure he recognized the man's voice. He said it was Brother Torphin."

"Torphin?! That's ridiculous," Gwen's disbelief was written plainly on her face. "He wouldn't hurt a fly."

"That may be so." Gaius interrupted. "But his majesty is insistent that it was him." He looked cautiously towards Merlin, who had a horrible feeling he knew what Gaius' next words would be. "He said Torphin's eyes _glowed with magic_ just before he attacked."

Merlin's stomach dropped. "You think he was a sorcerer?"

Arthur scowled, impatiently, his anger threatening to rise again. "Can you think of any other explanation, Merlin?"

"I can." Buffy said, as she defiantly stepped out from behind the curtain causing Merlin to whip his head around, his heart leapt up into his throat. "I think your buddy, Tofu, is a vampire."

"I can assure you Madame; _Torphin_ is no friend of mine. And who, might I ask, are you?"

To his credit, Arthur hid his reaction to the sudden appearance of the pint sized blonde woman incredibly well and to the untrained eye it would seem he knew she had been there all along. Although he gave the outward impression that he wasn't at all startled by her presence, Merlin knew him better than that and didn't miss the way Arthur's left eye twitched ever so slightly, a clear indication of the storm brewing just under the surface. Arthur hated to be caught off guard and Merlin knew it was highly likely that he would be the one on the receiving end of the prince's ire when it finally broke free.

It was obvious that Arthur's mind was suddenly full of questions that were all fighting for dominance inside his head but he barely gave Buffy a chance to answer before he deemed his next inquiry too important to ignore. "And what do you mean he's a _vampire_? That's absurd."

"You said your father lost a lot of blood. My guess is that, amongst his other injuries, he has a couple of puncture wounds, probably on his neck, right?" Arthur's face turned even stormier; clearly Buffy was correct in her assumption.

"Who _are you_?" He asked again as his fists twitched minutely by his sides.

"I'm Buffy Summers. And I know a thing or two about vampires. Actually I know a lot about vampires; it's kind of in the job description."

"My patience is growing thin. What are you talking about?"

For a second Merlin felt intimidated on Buffy's behalf but she pressed on, rising to the challenge and authority in Arthur's voice. "I'm a vampire slayer." She declared, chin high and a little proud.

Arthur huffed in indignation as he took in Buffy's tiny frame. Apparently the thought of her having the strength to slay _anything_ seemed absolutely ridiculous to him. "I don't have time for this nonsense. Come along Merlin." He turned his back on the group, his brow furrowed in frustration.

"Arthur, wait. I think you should listen to her!" Merlin called out as he followed and made to grab the Prince's arm as he stormed towards the door. Arthur turned with a sharp look at Merlin's hand but there was also a spark of curiosity in his glare, and Merlin knew he had captured his interest.

"You _know_ this woman?"

Merlin nodded. "I met them yesterday." Arthur's eyebrows raised high on his forehead and Merlin lost his grip on his arm, realizing his mistake. "Passing through... The woods." He finished, quietly, and Arthur didn't need to voice his next question about who _They_ might be.

"Guys? Come on out." Buffy sighed and turned back to the curtain just as Willow tentatively stepped out from behind it and Giles's head appeared in the small window of the back wall. Merlin imagined himself three very different and incredibly public, not to mention painful, deaths in the time it took for Giles to re-enter the room.

A state of completely unguarded shock finally spread through Arthur, freezing him in place, as he realized the man was the mirror image of his own father. As the seconds ticked by Merlin found himself equally paralyzed and could do nothing but hold himself as still as the statues adorning the castle walls, and hope that they could go back to talking about vampires, while Arthur came to grips with the sight before him.

Giles stumbled on the hem of his robe and struggled into an upright position as he readjusted the spectacles sitting precariously on the end of his nose while holding out his hand to Arthur in greeting. "Rupert Giles. It's a real pleasure to meet you, my lord!" He enthused, excitement drawn all over his face as he fell in to a wide bow. Arthur shook his head in confusion and refused to take Giles' hand; instead he pursed his lips and flashed Merlin a look of suspicion that could only be interpreted as _I know you have something to do with this!_ just as Gaius cleared his throat, loudly, beside them.

"Sir Giles! What a wonderful surprise. It's been far too long." He marched forward confidently and clutched at the Watcher's arm while all around him continued to gaze on in equal amounts of confusion and nervous apprehension.

"Indeed it has, old friend." Giles nodded, quickly picking up on Gaius's intentions, and patted him on the shoulder although for some reason he seemed unable to tare his eyes away from Arthur. The physician himself turned to Arthur with a broad smile and Merlin swore he saw the old man wink at him conspiratorially as he did so. "Sire, you remember Sir Giles? The Lady Morgana's great uncle?"

"I'm afraid not." Arthur huffed, his eyebrows still knitted together. "My sincere apologies but I was just a boy when Morgana came to us, I don't remember her family at all." Merlin watched as the war between shock, anger, and the reluctance to appear rude in the presence of a noble guest fought itself out on Arthur's face.

"Not at all, your highness, it's an _honour_ to meet the future King of Camelot, really _wonderful_."

"Right... Well."Arthur stuttered as he tried to regain some of his composure. "You will forgive my inquisition, then, but might I ask that, since it seems you arrived yesterday, why is it that your presence hasn't yet been announced to the court, or at the very least to your niece, Morgana? And why were you not accommodated in the guest quarters of the castle? No, wait..." He said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "On second thought, I'm quite sure I can safely presume that somehow this is all Merlin's fault." He said, smiling benignly at Giles before turning the full force of a heated glare on Merlin, sending a shiver down his spine. "Would _you_ care to explain?"

"Um... Well..." Merlin stalled in the face of Arthur's questioning. He realized that the Prince knew his manservant was a terrible liar and was obviously waiting for him to shoot himself in the foot, as it were. This was exactly the reason why Merlin had hoped to keep Giles and the girls away from Arthur in the first place; so that he didn't have to lie. And now here he stood, with Arthur and Giles only feet apart and all eyes on him, fidgeting where he stood, waiting to see how Merlin would explain everything without giving his master a reason to throw him in the stocks, or worse if he found out they were magic users, too.

"Sire, if I might interrupt..." Gwen delicately cut through the tension radiating from Arthur with a smile so sweet that, Merlin had long since recognized, was meant for exactly that purpose. "Merlin met Sir Giles in the forest yesterday. He had suffered a blow to the head from a falling branch and he thought it best to bring him to Gaius for medical attention _before_ his arrival was announced to the king. However, Sir Giles insisted he was fine and that he didn't need to be treated after all."

"That's right." Merlin beamed, latching on to her trail of thought and nodded his thanks to Gwen. She lied so easily and had such a trusting face that there was no way Arthur would question _her_ words. "It was late; we didn't want to disturb anyone. Gwen met us while she was out fetching water and kindly offered our guests shelter for the night."

"Is this true?" Arthur looked back at Giles and the others.

"Every word of it." Buffy said with as much authority as she could muster. "Giles is a little stubborn and probably a little concussed, even though he denies it so vehemently." She added with blatantly false innocence.

Willows face broke into a huge grin and she nudged her friend with her elbow lightly. "Also, it would definitely explain the royal nerdgasm. And, you know, the apparent inability to put one foot in front of the other without tripping over his clothes."

"I resent that." Giles blushed, furiously.

"Well one thing is for certain, we can't have you running around in this condition and looking exactly like my father. The people will think the king has gone mad."

Giles shrugged in a way that made him look like a perturbed little boy.

Merlin's smile grew slowly as an idea formed in his mind. "Actually, sire, come to think of it, that's not a bad idea after all." Perhaps he could escape the executioners axe if he diverted Arthur's attention away from the sudden appearance of these strangers by coaxing him into accepting their help. He looked to Gaius and Giles in turn, wondering if they were thinking the same thing.

"Oh. Yes of course; brilliant, in-fact. I think that might be just what we need." Gaius looked up, Merlin's grin reflected in the twinkle of his ancient eyes.

"Will someone please tell me what you two are talking about?" Arthur whirled from one face to the other, his momentarily banked temper threatening to rise again.

"Sire, if I understand Merlin's intent correctly, we might use Sir Giles to our own advantage via the use of subterfuge."

Merlin nodded enthusiastically and hoped with everything he had that Arthur would catch on.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying? You're honestly suggesting that we let this buffoon rule Camelot in my father's stead?"

Giles murmur of "_Oh no, please _carry on_ insulting me to my face._" went unheard as Merlin and Gaius's plan dawned on the rest of the group.

"I'm suggesting we let him _pretend_ to rule Camelot. No-one knows Sir Giles and his companions are here, so, we dress him up in your father's clothes, stick the crown on his head, and parade him around a little bit. No-one needs to be any the wiser."

And if it also meant that Giles would be free to roam the castle and, say, gain access to the vast library of books and resources at the King's disposal without arousing suspicion, then that was all for the better. Any questions about the monarch's sudden desire to read up on such wild fancies as time travel could be easily explained away as an investment in the constant fight against sorcery. Merlin let the feeling of smugness wash over him for a moment and decided that Gaius must have been right that one time he had called him a genius. It was a brilliant plan, if he did say so himself.

"Your father needs time to recuperate after his ordeal, Sire, and if nothing else, it will certainly go a long way towards avoiding the unrest that would arise with the King's absence."

"Yes. I suppose you're right. Well done Gaius." Arthur calmed once more and thrust his hands more firmly on his hips, ignoring Merlin's indignant retort of "_Hey! It was my idea_."

"Guinevere, take Sir Giles to the castle and have him change into some of my father's clothes. If you could also kindly inform the lady Morgana of her Uncle's role in our plan, and please do try to be discrete, I'll meet her there to discuss the details before we leave."

With that Arthur turned his back on everyone and marched towards the door of Gwen's home. Merlin hurried after him while the others breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Arthur, what do you mean _before we leave_? Where are we going?" Merlin panted as he struggled to keep up with the prince's accelerating pace.

"We're going to find the wretch who did this to my father and we're going to kill him, of course."

"Of course, it's what we always do; how _silly_ of me to forget."

Arthur suddenly stopped mid jog and turned to face Gwen's house once more. Although they were a good distance away from the open door now, the visitors hidden from view, Arthur's stare was so intent that Merlin was momentarily convinced he had developed the ability to see through walls. He would bet a good deal of his annual pay that he knew who Arthur was staring at, too.

"I suppose you're thinking about how much Giles looks like your father, hey? The resemblance is uncanny, there's really no denying it." He laughed a little in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Perhaps you're more closely related to Morgana than you thought!"

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur bit out his usual response but there was no venom in his tone, only a heavy sense of preoccupation. It made Merlin nervous all over again. "If you must know, and I'm only sharing this with you in the hope it will put an end to your incessant prattling, I'm _thinking_ that it's a bit of a coincidence that an attempt to assassinate my father just happens to take place on the very same night that Morgana's _so called _family arrives in Camelot. _Family_, I might add, that she, or anyone else for that matter, have neglected to mention at _any point _in all the years she has lived with us."

"It does seem a little suspicious when you put it like that, yes." He answered, meekly, not daring to make eye contact with Arthur.

"There's more to all of this than meets the eye, Merlin, and I intend to get to the bottom of it."

"What about the Order of Aurelius? I thought we were going after Torphin? Your father said..."

"I'm well aware of what my Father said, and have no fear, I will find the snivelling toad but I'm not about to trust this Sir Giles quite so easily either; which is why Sir Leon and the others will stay behind to keep an eye on his _every move_."

Arthur set his jaw and turned once again to continue on his path towards the stables to prepare for the hunt, not even checking to see if his servant would follow. Merlin clutched at the hair on the back of his neck and screwed up his face in renewed fear before trailing after Arthur at a more subdued pace.

He had thought the revelation of Giles and the others had gone far better than he could have hoped. The lies he had told to convince Arthur of their false identity seemed strong enough and he was proud of himself for thinking so quickly on his feet, even if he had had a good deal of help from Gaius and Gwen. He would have to thank them for it later. But now, away from the scrutiny of strangers and subjects alike, Arthur's face told a different story and Merlin was at once grateful and despairing of the close relationship he shared with the prince that allowed him to see the Royal's true thoughts.

Arthur trusted him enough to confide his worries and it tore viciously at Merlin's conscience to lie so elaborately in the face of that trust. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. On one hand he hated to lie to Arthur, to feed him falsehoods and conceal the presence of these people from the future. People who used magic just as he also did. But when the consequences of being truthful meant certain death for everyone involved, what other choice did he have?

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Title**: Where Echoes Meet: Chapter four  
**Fandom**: Merlin – Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover.  
**Summary**: Buffy, Willow and Giles are sent back in time to the court of King Uther of Camelot. (In my version of their world, Arthur and Merlin are history, not legend.)  
**Pairings**: Merlin/Arthur (Eventually.)  
**Rating**: PG for this chapter.  
**Warnings**: Descriptions of dead cows in this one - just incase anyone needs a warning for that. XD

Minor spoilers for S1 E10

**AN**: Just like last time, I'm so sorry it took me so long to update this. Last year RL was bad, this year has it been a lot worse and I haven't had the time or mental energy to put much effort into writing. Things in the real world seem to be going a lot better for now, though, so I will try my best to keep working on this. Thank you to everyone who has been patient and stuck with me.

It's been so long since I posted that it might help to go back a bit and read again before you start on this chapter.

I am also posting this story on my live journal (.com) where it also includes the pictures and graphics that accompany the story. Obviously I can't post those here so come over and say hello if you want to see them.

Gaius and Gwen were huddled together by the door of Gwen's house, talking quietly about the best way to smuggle Uther's doppelganger into the castle, while Buffy paced restlessly in front of Willow and the man himself.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" She whispered to Giles, urgently, and grabbed a hold of his sleeve. Gaius was making a move towards them with the intent of throwing a large pale blue cape around her watcher and herding him out of the door but he caught the worried look on Buffy's face and stepped back, nodding in understanding. He bowed graciously and rejoined Gwen at the window with a sigh. Buffy thanked him with a smile and waited until he was out of ear shot before she continued.

"Giles, I have a bad feeling about all of this. Us getting involved with history this way could blow a great big 'end of the world as we know it' hole in the space-time continuum. Or something." It felt like a lame argument to make but it was the best she could come up with. "And I may be wrong but I'm pretty sure that would be a _bad_ thing."

Giles smiled affectionately at her tendency to over react and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "This isn't Star Trek, Buffy. I'm sure I'll be fine. I'm looking forward to it actually."

"That's the part that worries me." Their smiles grew as they both resigned themselves to the inevitable. "Alright. Go. But stay close to Gandalf and, please, be careful."

"I suppose there's no need for me to ask where _you__'__re_ going." Giles probed, and looked over his shoulder to make sure he hadn't been overheard.

"It really should be obvious at this point."

"Of course. You should keep in mind that you need to tread with caution, too. If Arthur and his men suspect anything is amiss, I'm afraid they won't hesitate to arrest you. Or worse."

Buffy shot him a look that said _They__'__d have to catch me first_.

"Humour me." He pleaded with her and tightened his grip on her shoulder. "Let me at least pretend that you aren't about to run headlong into another heap of trouble."

"I promise." She said and crossed her heart solemnly with her right hand.

"Right. Well, then. I best be off. Wish me luck?"

"Lot's of it." She made an elaborate sprinkling motion with her hands and patted him on the chest.

Giles laughed and bent down to hug her lightly then gave the thumbs up to Willow before he hastily left with Gaius and a very nervous looking Gwen. As the door closed behind them Buffy turned to Willow who, once again, was grinning from ear to ear and gently running her hands down the sleeves of the beautiful green velvet dress that Gwen had borrowed from the Lady Morgana. "What are you smiling about?" She asked her friend, not unkindly.

"Oh I don't know," Willow swished the skirt from side to side like a ten year old wearing her favourite party dress and danced her way closer to Buffy. "It could be the fact that we're in Camelot and we just made BFF's with the greatest sorcerer who ever lived."

Buffy wasn't fooled and folded her arms across her chest and smiled accusingly at the redhead. "Or could it possibly be the fact that we're in Camelot and a certain queenly brunette just spent the last half hour dressing and undressing you like Medieval Princess Barbie? Don't think I didn't notice you making goo goo eyes at Gwen."

"She has really soft hands." Willow beamed even more brightly back at Buffy, completely unabashed. "Okay." She sighed. "We should probably leave the futile crushing on royalty aside for a minute and get back to business, huh?"

Buffy merely nodded in agreement and Willow tried her best to tone down her obvious excitement. "What's the plan?"

"We go hunting." Buffy glanced down at the folds of delicate gold and cream fabric hanging across her own body and pouted heavily with regret. "But, first, we have to get rid of the dresses."

"Sometimes I hate our life." Willow whimpered and hugged herself in protest at the thought of parting with the gown so soon.

Leaving his boots behind in his quarters had been a stupid mistake; in doing so Torphin may well have given the hunting dogs a scent to track and he knew it wouldn't be long before they would set off running with their noses to the ground while Arthur and his men followed close behind. Torphin dare not be left exposed on the open land around Camelot any longer; he needed a place to hide from both the prince and the sun, fast.

Fortunately for the vampire he had happened upon the mouth of a tunnel just before daylight broke above the horizon where a small stream bled faint crimson water from inside, taunting him with the possibility of a meal. Impulsively, he had followed into its depths, wading into the shallow current as he went, extinguishing any trail.

After a while, and safe from the slowly rising sun, the tunnel had widened into a seemingly endless cavern that wound down deeper and deeper back into the centre of the city. He followed it for a long time until eventually the stream grew a little stronger as he neared it's source, as did the smell of blood. Hunger pushed him forward until he found the tunnel's core where countless more passages branched off from all sides and faded into mouths of impenetrable darkness.

He easily navigated away from the stream to follow a path around the sharp rocks rising up from the earth as the putrid stench of death filled his nose and excited him. On closer inspection, Torphin was bitterly disappointed to find nothing but the remains of multiple cows strewn all around in various stages of decay. Some had been reduced to piles of broken and crumbling yellow bones that collapsed and turned to powder beneath his feet, while others, somewhat fresher, were covered with bloody rotting flesh that still clung in ragged strips to hollow skulls and severed limbs. In his previous life as a human he would have vomited in sheer terror on being surrounded by such carnage; the stench alone would have haunted him for weeks after, but now, with demonic bravado coursing through him and making him fearless, he saw only an opportunity to conceal himself from his enemy. He resigned himself to the fact that this second hand feast belonged to something else; he would not feed this day and his stomach growled with need.

He paced for a while in the quiet darkness of the cave with his sodden tunic stuck to his thick legs, and his mind repeated the events of the previous night in a continuous loop, taunting him over and over with a replay of his failure. It was embarrassing; the way Uther, a mere human, had managed to fight back so fiercely. Torphin cringed inwardly and clawed at the dark stubble on his face as he moved among the bones of the dead cows. There was no point in rehashing the entire debacle right now, he had more pressing concerns to worry about. Like the fact the he had no idea how he would be able to reunite with the Order without getting caught by Arthur and his men, or what would happen to him even if he did.

He was sure that should he succeed in finding his brothers, their master would not take lightly to his incompetent failure and Torphin feared for the future of his own existence. No punishment that Arthur and his knights could meter out would match the wrath of a disappointed Heinrich, even on a good day. The thought of what might become of him was enough to fray his nerves completely.

If nothing else, he could at least thank his good luck in finding the cave in which he now hid; no one would ever think to look for Uther's would-be assassin right under the King's own nose. He looked up at the huge mound of smooth rock in the centre of the cavern at the last remaining dragon sleeping peacefully atop it, oblivious to his presence. Yes, this was as good a place to hide as any, he was safe for now. He settled himself more comfortably among the remains of the bloodied corpses and began to plan his next move.

"No. Absolutely not. I can't believe you would even _suggest_ such a thing!" Arthur turned his incredulous gaze on Merlin where he stood in the doorway of the stable. He worried for a moment that the prince thought he had gone completely mad. Maybe he had, it had been an incredibly bewildering couple of days after all.

Merlin still had no idea why Willow and her friends had been thrown back in time to Camelot but the more he thought about it the more he was convinced it was for a good reason. The fact that Uther had been attacked so viciously in the night, and by a creature they knew all about no less, only secured his belief that they were here to help. It would be easy to believe they were the cause of the problem, as he was sure Arthur suspected, but he hadn't sensed any malice in their presence at all. He just knew they weren't the enemy.

Merlin straightened to his full height, confident in the belief that he was right, and folded his arms across his chest, letting Arthur know he wasn't about to back down but Arthur cut him off before he could begin his argument again.

"They are _girls_, Merlin. Tiny, fragile looking ones at that. Why on earth would I let them come with us?"

"Did you learn _nothing_ in Ealdor?" Merlin asked a little too loudly, making the horses whinny and the assembled knights bristle at his show of disrespect.

Arthur visibly blanched at the memory of Morgana, Gwen, and the woman of Merlin's village fighting beside them and fearlessly defending their homes. Merlin enjoyed watching him squirm for a second and pressed on, knowing Arthur, in his embarrassment, would at least give it some thought.

"If nothing else, their knowledge about vampires could come in very handy. Do you even know what their weaknesses are? How to kill one? I certainly don't."

"Vampires." Arthur scoffed. He shook his head and pulled the reins of his horse tight as he threw himself up across the it's back and settled himself comfortably in the saddle. "I'm still not convinced they even exist."

"I can promise you, they do."

Merlin and Arthur's heads both shot up at the sound of Buffy's voice interrupting their argument for the second time today. She walked into the stables and past the knights readying their own horses as if she had every right to be there and Merlin was flooded with conflicting feelings of both nervousness and respect.

She had an air of power about her, albeit different to the kind that surrounded Willow, and it made him a little twitchy. On the other hand, though, he liked that she was so matter of fact and didn't seem to be afraid of Arthur in the same way that he wasn't. It was something they had in common and probably one of the reasons why Arthur appeared reluctant to take her seriously. Merlin couldn't help but find the whole thing amusing.

"You again." Arthur huffed and shot an exasperated look at the knights as they all battled with the urge to keep their eyes from drifting towards Buffy's chest which was once again clad in her own, far more revealing, clothes. They didn't even register Willow standing close behind her, still stubbornly clad in flowing green velvet.

"Hi." Buffy waved to them all, enjoying the obvious discomfort her presence had caused "I couldn't help overhearing your conversation and I know you're in a hurry so I'll make this simple. I know you're angry and you're out for blood but the only blood that will be spilled is your own if you go after these guys unprepared." Her voice easily carried over the gentle snickering of horses and all eyes were suddenly on her as she addressed the prince. "You have no idea what you're up against. Vampires are very real, they're strong, and they're fast and I know how to fight them. We're coming with you whether you like it or not.."

"Thank you for your concern but I'm sure we will be fine. I won't endanger your life by allowing you to accompany us out there." Arthur said. "My Lady." He added as an after-thought.

"Because I'm so tiny and fragile?" Buffy raised her eyebrows at him knowingly and Merlin recognised the look of determination on her face. Arthur was a fool if he thought she would be talked out of joining them so easily. "I could kick your knight in shiny metal ass."

"How dare you threaten the prince!" One of the knights who hadn't yet mounted up stepped forward angrily. He moved to unsheathe his sword but Arthur held up his hand signalling for the man to step back.

Arthur chuckled at Buffy's bravado. " You think you could beat me?" He asked, raising his own eyebrows at her challenge.

"With one hand tied behind my scantily clad back." Buffy matched his countenance and thrust her hands on her hips, refusing to back down. Merlin had to hand it to her, she was every bit as arrogant and fiery as Arthur himself. He could understand why she had taken the position of leader among her friends, it also left him with the impression that there would be a lot of heated clashes in their future if Arthur relented and let the girls go with them in the hunt for Torphin.

The knight who had stepped up to defend Arthur pressed forward again impatiently and turned to him, vibrating with anger. Merlin started to worry that this wouldn't end well as Buffy glared at the intrusion.

"Sire, with all due respect, if we want to catch up with the Order of Aurelius we have to move out, now. We don't have time to indulge the deluded fantasies of your manservant and his... Whore!"

No this definitely wasn't going to end well. Merlin briefly hid his face behind his hands as Buffy immediately let fly with a kick that sent the burly knight stumbling back and collapsing against his disgruntled horse. Everyone around the stables gasped in shock but she didn't give him time to recover before she charged at him again. She yanked him up in the air as if his armour clad body weighed nothing at all and threw him over her shoulder where he landed flat on his back in a graceless heap, completely winded and clutching his ribs. She pounced on him, then, straddling his torso and pinned his arms above his head as he writhed in pain beneath her and gasped for breath. "For the last time! I am not a _whore_!" She barked in his face and tossed her hair out of her eyes before standing once more to brush the sawdust from her jeans.

A few of the knights found themselves unable to stifle their unmanly giggles while others shuffled their feet nervously waiting to see how Arthur would react so that they could follow his lead. This tiny blond woman had just made a fool of one of the best knights in Camelot and they weren't quite sure what to do about it. Merlin tried his best not to look smug or utter the words _I told you so _but Arthur caught him anyway and Merlin pursed his lips, trying not to smirk.

"Alright. You win." Arthur said. It was obvious that he was impressed with Buffy's display of strength and skill but he would be damned if he admitted it out loud. "She rides with us. If anyone has any objections, I suggest you take them up with the lady herself."

He cleared his throat and held out his hand for Buffy to take, startling her a little when instead of shaking it cordially, he yanked her up with a mighty pull to sit behind him on the horse. Buffy squeaked and thrust her arms around his waist as they made their way out of the stables, leaving the shamed knight to haul himself up off the ground.

Merlin tracked the pair as they passed by. Buffy was clinging a little too tightly to Arthur than was entirely necessary but Arthur wore so many layers of clothing beneath his armour plate that he probably hadn't even noticed. From the corner of his eye Merlin could see that Willow was gazing at him thoughtfully. She winked, making him blush, but he didn't have time to contemplate why as one of the stable boys presented him with the same stubborn mule he had been forced to ride the previous day and he was forced to climb up into the saddle before Arthur got to big of a head start. He extended his hand to the witch and invited her to hop up behind him.

The three remaining monks of the Order of Aurelius were waiting impatiently in the ruins of an old building nestled at the foot of the White Mountains, cloaked in the dense forest that grew around Camelot's heart.

Fallen trees and vines had wrapped around the building, destroying much of the walls and roof but the four vampires had found sanctuary within the confines of the only surviving tower. Asa had taken a position in a high window on the east side of the derelict structure; keeping his eyes closed and listening to the sounds of the forest spread thickly below.

After the long trek to this place in the dead of night he could finally relax for a few moments, safe in the knowledge that he would smell the scent of frenzied hunting dogs or hear the heavy footfalls of horses long before the accompanying search party deemed it necessary to employ even a modicum of stealth in their approach.

He rolled his tired shoulders and breathed an unnecessarily deep breath; taking in a lungful of the moist breeze wafting against his face. A heavy cloak hung around his head and shoulders and the canopy of trees, even taller than the tower itself, protected him from burning in the morning sun.

Away from the hustle and bustle of castle life he felt content, if only for a minute. The constant vigilance required of an impostor in Uther's court had not been easy on any of them and he was glad to see the back of the monarch and his endless questions about the new religion. Questions he had despised answering in his role of holy man. The irony of a vampire taking such a position was not lost on Asa and was something that had become his only source of amusement in the long months serving the Pendragon household.

Beneath his perch on the window ledge was a great yawning hole in the floor where the beams and floorboards had rotted away granting him access to the sounds of his brothers pacing and planning, nervously, in the lower room.

Their leader, Heinrich, moved back and forth across the length of the dusty floor as he gave voice to his thoughts, while his henchman, Ihon, sat idly sharpening the heavy metal claw adorning the index finger of his right hand.

In the corner of the room where the light did not yet reach, a young boy nestled under the cover of Heinrich's own blanket and slept soundlessly; his chest unmoving without the need for air.

The boy was a strange one and Asa was more than a little unnerved by him. They had picked him up in France the previous year when he had made the mistake of picking Heinrich's pocket. He was caught almost immediately but refused to defend himself or even speak, no matter how much coaxing came from Heinrich. Instead of killing the street urchin right there and then, as both Ihon and Asa believed he should have done, Heinrich had laughed and cupped the young one's dainty face gently in his own callused hand. He had been sickeningly enchanted by the youth and decided he would keep him as a pet; the boy was changed that night and Heinrich had given him the name of Luc. He had remained mute to this day but Heinrich claimed he could communicate with _him_ more than adequately. Asa didn't want to know how.

He scanned along the length of the young boys torso and up to his pale face. The teen was suddenly wide awake and staring straight at Ihon, unblinking, and obviously making the giant feel uncomfortably small with just a look, it was a talent of Luc's that was only aided by his eerie silence. A shiver ran down Ihon's back and he snarled a toothless growl at the boy he loathed so much. "Go back to sleep, _Shadow_." He said, and spat on the ground.

Heinrich turned on the spot, looking from the heavily muscled Ihon and back down again to his beloved Luc. "I've told you before; don't call him that. He doesn't like it!" He snapped.

Ihon flinched slightly at the sound of his master's tone and returned his attention to sharpening his clawed finger and muttering under his breath. "How would you _know_?" He growled quietly. "The creepy little bastard never opens his mouth."

Across the room Luc remained silent and closed his eyes feigning sleep once more; although the tension in his recumbent pose remained. Ihon continued to grumble and complain under his breath about how it was just so damned unnatural that every time any of them turned around, Luc was there, silently waiting in the background, anticipating Heinrich's every need with unnerving accuracy. Their leader never had to ask for anything. Luc just knew what he needed and presented it to him before Heinrich had even expressed them.

Eventually Heinrich would hear no more from Ihon and he thundered across the room to yell in the vampire's face. "Enough! We have more important things to worry about!" He snarled impatiently and resumed pacing back and forth although this time with more vigour.

"Ah, yes." Ihon lifted his head once more, having a new target for his temper. "How could I forget our good brother Torphin. The useless piece of horse shit!" He threw his knife angrily at the ground, embedding it in the dirt. "If you had only allowed Asa to do the job in the first place we could be back in Camelot by now, feasting with Uther in the great hall and celebrating his rebirth." Heinrich was clearly frustrated. He could not dispute the fact that Ihon was right.

Asa turned fully on the ledge and looked down through the floor, suddenly far more interested in the turn of the conversation. The lookout had been desperate to take on the task of changing Uther Pendragon himself but Heinrich wouldn't hear of it. Torphin was the new boy, he had to prove himself and his worth among the Order. As far as Asa and Ihon were concerned the only thing that Torphin had proven to anyone was what an incompetent layabout he was. They knew that already so why waste more time sitting around waiting for his return?

Asa leapt down through the hole in the floor, landing gracefully on his feet without making a sound. "Sire, I think I may have a solution to our problem." He spoke quietly and inclined his head towards Heinrich, waiting for permission to continue, but it was Ihon who spoke first.

"If by _problem_ you mean that demented wretch, Torphin, we're all ears."

Asa smiled and shared his plan with the small but suddenly rapt audience.


End file.
